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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137729">For the love of music</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkeyes_chicklet/pseuds/Hawkeyes_chicklet'>Hawkeyes_chicklet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>lebanon hanover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:15:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkeyes_chicklet/pseuds/Hawkeyes_chicklet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha Romanoff visits a gothic disco</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For the love of music</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I may suggest you listen to Lebanon Hanover with "Gallowdance" or New Order with "Age of consent" while reading this bit. Then you'll get a feeling for it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Natasha was listening to music over her headphones. That bassline always gets her. She likes the minimalistic sound of many of the cold wave musicians. Their texts were dark and serious and with the music they make a good atmosphere for thinking, dwelling in the feelings. Or, with the faster songs, you could even dance to. </p><p>She's seen people move to this specific kind of music. And the people are as special as well. She had first seen them  in an underground club in Berlin. Almost everyone dressed in black completely, with artful makeup and interesting hair does. Black leather, boots, chains, braces,  laces, rivets and patches on the clothing. They were colourful even without colours. Although they all wore black nobody looked the same. </p><p>She was amazed and intrigued. </p><p>Natasha seemed to fit right in. Initially she only wanted to take a quick look after she passed the club on the street and heard the music. Something inside her did react to the sound so she decided to step in. </p><p>It was almost pitch black only a few candles lit the way to the hall. The air was full of cigarette smoke, alcoholic haze and dry ice. And a subtle touch of some patchouli. She entered the room by pushing a thick black curtain aside. It wasn't much brighter here either. Her eyes needed a moment to get used to the flickering lights that shone on the dancefloor. </p><p>Some people were dancing to the slow but impulsive music with deep basslines and hypnotic voices. They moved forth and back, with sweeping movement of their arms. Every dancer seemed to be in their very own world. Many had closed their eyes, lived in the music for this moment. </p><p>Never had she seen something like this. It was pure dedication. She knew the ballet thats also about compassion and dedication. Every note and every rotation had to be on point.  Given steps. It was always forced. Strict  processes. This dance was free, absolutely free. They moved like they wanted to. She couldn't help but stare. </p><p>The tiny club had many little sitting areas were the black dressed man and women sat and chatted, smoked and laughed. At the bar you could order your drinks and take them to your seat. </p><p>The women were extraordinary beautiful. Their clothing was from elegant to some slutty touches but always on point. Several shades of black,  chosen carefully and spiced up with accessories. Many piercings and tattoos and no lack of naked skin. Even some man were wearing make up.</p><p>Natasha's feet wanted to move. She didn't knew any of the songs playing but they got in her mind, wrapped around it and gave her some kind of healing. They calmed her racing thoughts like a thick blanket. She decided that she had watched the dancers enough and stepped up the dance floor. She breathed and started to move, three steps forward, two back. As if her body and the music had always known each other she lets herself go. She knew she looked good, she had been a dancer her entire life. But at first it was a little odd just to move like she wanted to.</p>
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